Chapter XXXVIII.
THE WAY BACK.
Yacamo, out searching for signs of human occupation, came upon theentrance to the upland valley, and espied the Indian town. He wentback to the camp and reported. A deputation was sent to wait upon thechief; a body of men met them in the pass, and refused to allow them toproceed a step farther. Then some of the adventurers themselvesclimbed through the gorge, and were met with a shower of arrows thatwounded three of them. Finally, Captain Drake himself, under theguidance of Yacamo, worked his way into the valley, and reconnoitred.He calculated the town at a strength of about fifteen hundred to twothousand warriors. It was not fortified; but no force could get up thegorge if reasonable opposition were offered. His own band could beambushed in a score of places. He decided it was impossible to attackthe place with any chance of success.
Scouting parties were sent farther along the river. In every case theywere assailed. The Englishmen themselves were shot at again and againif they ventured out hunting, and at night arrows dropped at intervalsinto the camp. The adventurers were in a hornets' nest, and thehornets were always stinging. These attacks, which argued theexistence of a host of enemies, were all the work of the escapedchieftain and his twoscore of followers. Divided into about half adozen bands, hiding themselves with perfect native cunning, they wereas effective as ten times the number of less active, less revengefulfoes might be; and they grew bolder every hour.
Despairing of success--wearied, wounded, harassed, sick--theadventurers resolved to turn back. Since they had entered the hillycountry, they had lost seven men; and as the whole country seemedrising to oppose them, it was madness to attempt to force a passagealong the rocky, unknown way. With heavy hearts they paddled into themain stream, got into the current, and drifted northwards towards theocean.
For days there was hardly any attempt at rowing. The strong rush ofthe chalky waters swept the boats along. Awnings were erected to shutoff the terrific heat of the equatorial sun, and the men lay and dozedand rested, their native allies directing the course of the voyage. Nofoes appeared, days and nights were quiet and uneventful, and thestrength and spirits of all began to revive. They had failed in theirquest. What of that? The summer was not yet gone. There were Spanishgalleons to be attacked. The Johnsons could show where Oxenham hadhidden his treasure; and if they had not found Lake Parime and its cityof gold, they had explored much new and wondrously fertile country.The passion for exploration and the gaining of knowledge of new landswas almost as strong in the hearts of the bold fellows as was thethirst for treasure. Third day down the river Dan sang his song again;'twas,--
"Ho! for the Spanish Main, And ha! for the Spanish gold!"
King Philip's ships were the true and sure gold-mines. All eyes lookedand all hearts yearned for the sea. Their thoughts flew to their bonnylittle ship. Was she safe? How that question agitated every one, andwhat intense speculation there was as to the way the question would beanswered!
If the way back was easier than the journey forward, it was not lessdangerous. The heat had increased, insect life had multiplied amyriad-fold, and the pestilential vapours from the swampy lowlands werethicker and deadlier than before; and the men were not fresh from theinvigorating sea, but were spent and worn with a thousand hardships.They drooped, sickened, raved in delirium, and in some cases died.Even the cheery Dan succumbed to the poison of the noisome night mists,and whilst the fever was on him his songs and jests were sorely missed.Morgan and some of the others began to sing songs of home, but thesethe captain stopped because of the depression they induced in some ofthe men.
At length, after more than a fortnight of drifting with the current,the first parting of the ways at the beginning of the delta wasreached. To the Indians this was the threshold of home; to theEnglishmen it was but a poor halting-place, from which they must setout to face fresh perils, and maybe meet newer disappointments. Thebewildering maze of channels was once more threaded, this time with thevarying strengths of the current to indicate the better routes. Thedense, overhanging vegetation sheltered the voyagers by day and stifledthem by night. Rests at friendly villages were eagerly welcomed, andno bad news awaited the weary band. A few Spanish boats had been seenin some of the channels, but they had asked no questions concerning theEnglishmen, and the natives had given no information, fearing thattheir masters--for so the Dons accounted themselves--would punish themfor having assisted their enemies.
It was in the heat of sultry afternoon, the air stirless, the water inthe channel warm and rank-smelling. The boats were drifting lazilyunder the banks, the native steersmen half sleeping at their posts, thewhite men stretched out, listless, sun-wearied, inert. A canoe shotout across the path of the boats, disappeared along another waterway,stopped, and a Spaniard got out and plunged into the trees on the lowisland. He watched the flotilla go by. He noticed the attitude of themen.
"St. James!" he cried, "I could do it with a score of resolutesoldiers! What a chance! And I must miss it!"
The Englishmen drifted on; the Spaniard followed at a safe distance.He wanted a solution to an important question: Where was the Englishship? He had hunted for it, and so had others--for the _Golden Boar_had been tracked from Trinidad into the delta--but no man had sightedher, and knew not how far she had gone up-stream. It was not suspectedthat she had remained so near the sea as proved to be the case. Thenative chief had guarded his secret well.
That night, about an hour after sunset, and with the light of thegrowing moon to guide them, the adventurers tied up their boats in thepool where the _Golden Boar_ still lay. What a thrill went througheach heart as the outline of their ocean home appeared dimly throughthe veil of white mist! Tears stood in their eyes, and more than onebold fellow had hard work to choke back a sob. The men left behindcame running forth to meet them, all alive, all well. Rough, beardedlips pressed against thin, tanned cheeks in brotherly kisses, and thenatives thronged round, full of affectionate and admiring welcome. Thebrave "white brothers" were back, and their simple hearts rejoiced.
The villagers began instant preparations for a great feast. CaptainDrake marshalled his men, and went aboard his ship. Standingbareheaded on his deck, the flag of England unfurled above him, hereturned thanks to Almighty God for a great deliverance from manyperils; and the company responded with a sonorous and devout "Amen!"There was no word of repining, no lamentation over the failure that hadattended their quest. The dead were remembered in a few moments ofbowed and silent reverence, and, at the command of his captain, Morgansang the "_De Profundis_." "Out of the deep," indeed, had they called,and they thanked God in that He heard them.
Then they went to the place of feasting, and ate as hungry voyagersshould eat. After that they slept the deep sleep of wearied men who,after many toils and vicissitudes, had reached a haven where they couldrest.
Days of bustle followed. The ship was cleaned of the vegetable growthsthat clung to her sides; masts were refixed, fittings tested andreplaced, and ample stores put aboard. The salt breeze had got againinto the men's nostrils, and their hearts cried out for the open sea.Affectionate farewell was taken of their kindly hosts; a promise tocome back again was given. Then a flotilla of canoes towed the stoutship into the main channel!